The Lady Who Wasn't
by Identity-Unknown
Summary: A Sequel to Jack's Lady of Seville. J/A


**The Lady Who Wasn't**

_A/N:_ _Ever wonder what that last meeting Angelica talked about leaving Jack at was like? Just why was Angelica so bitter? Here's my take, a sequel to Jack's Lady of Seville._

His memory taunted her, just as _he_ had always taunted her, his image, his touch, his voice.

Angelica could not stop pacing. She wanted to turn tail and run. She wanted to stand still and wait for him to come to her. She _thought_ she still wanted to kill him. She was in far over her head, and what was worse, her father knew it. Blackbeard had told her she was being foolish. Why let such a man occupy her thoughts even a moment longer than she had to? Jack Sparrow had never promised her the world. He'd never promised her always and forever - indeed, he'd produced quite an unattractive grimace at the mere suggestion of her staying at his side beyond the few hours, days, or weeks that they had whenever they chanced to cross paths.

Angelica refused to let herself even think about the fact that she loved him. He was Jack Sparrow, after all. Throughout the long years, she'd found that he was completely unchanging. Ah, but when they were together...there was always that one moment of complete bliss and happiness, when she was so high on her emotions for him that it felt like there was no way they would ever part again, it was so good, too good for one of them to just simply walk away.

And then one of them did.

It was easy to believe that it was the two of them, together, against the world – but she knew the truth of it. It had always been the two of them _against_ each other.

Angelica could stand across from him on a crumbling precipice, on some chaotic scrap of the world, and meet his dark eyes, and know, just know somehow, that together they were untouchable, that he would never let her fall, never let her go...and then more often than not, she would be the one left standing alone, watching his back as he did just that.

In fact, it wouldn't be inconceivable to say that she knew the sight of Jack's back better than his front.

Well, perhaps most of his front...

Feeling a rush of painfully familiar heat, Angelica wanted to turn away from the sight of the Black Pearl on the golden dawn horizon. It had been seven years since she'd met him, seven years since she'd vowed to kill him - and a mere three months since she'd last heard his voice, a coarse, unbearably arousing whisper in her ear as they both finished violently against the back-alley wall of a filthy tavern in Nassau.

No, there could be no peace between them, not ever. They were pirates the both of them, and as the saying went, their lives would be merry but short. There was no point in thinking of anything beyond that.

Nothing could come of it, of them…but it still hurt, and Angelica knew it always would, like an aching, empty void in the depths of her chest. She loved Jack Sparrow, had ever since he'd snuck into her life, and nothing had ever been the same again.

_Tortuga_, _One Day Later…_

Angelica had thought she was ready, had sorted things out, but when she saw him on the pier her thoughts began racing, she could not be cool and still – confronting Jack again was just not that easy. Before she realized what she was doing, she was standing in his path, and had her sword drawn.

"Still haven't forgiven me for leaving you in Nassau, I see," Jack sighed dramatically, pushing the point of her sword from his throat.

Angelica couldn't bear it. She was strong, much stronger than most women, but at this moment she wanted to fall to her knees and beg him to pay attention to her, to take care of her. Her foolish weakness made her want to cry bitterly.

"_¡Dale!_ Still haven't changed, I see!"

Jack looked at her impatiently, making it clear he had an elsewhere to be. His impatient indifference stabbed at her. Why did she care? Why was it so hard?

"What do you want, Angelica?"

"I am unsure - perhaps the return of my chastity?" Angelica challenged fiercely, baring her sharp white teeth.

Jack cocked his head. "What is it you really want?" he asked warily. "Is this to be a repeat of St. Dominique?"

Angelica allowed her lips to curve into a dangerous smile at the reminder of her last attempt on his life, and she reached up and pulled the collar of her shirt lower on her shoulders.

"I want the same thing you do, Jack."

His eyes flashed, and then his heavy lashes lowered and he squinted at her uncertainly. "Rhum?"

Angelica had to hide a grin of triumph. "Why have you become so quiet? Was it something that I said? That I did?"

"On the contrary, darling Angelica, it's something I failed to do," he drawled, abruptly pulling her into his arms. "Indeed, it should have been done before you ever had the chance to use that sharp tongue of yours."

Angelica narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to tear into him, but he covered it with his, instead. The warm, familiar feeling after so long made her melt against him. He left her lips, skimmed across her smooth cheek, and let the barest hint of his tongue sweep along the curve of her neck.

Angelica purred. _'Ay de mí…'_

"You are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Jack murmured into her ear, making her close her eyes and tilt her head toward him. He kissed her again, and she felt his satisfied smirk through the excitement that so swiftly stole her will.

"I hate the way you lie to me," Angelica breathed against his lips, barely aware of even saying it. She loathed herself that much, her body's way of blocking out everything but him.

Jack's be-ringed hand stilled on the soft curve of her exposed shoulder, and his lips stopped brushing hers. He uncurled his fingers from her waist, one by one, and took a careful, slow step back, his eyes hooded.

"Well, then, allow me to remove my offensive-self from milady's exalted presence," he drawled, flashing a tight smile. He gave a mocking half-bow and salute, and turned away.

_"¡Oiga! _Don't you dare throw that bloody blithe salute at me and walk away, you cocky bastardo!" Angelica spat, the hurt in her chest making her enraged.

He ignored the insult and kept on his way, dripping confidence despite the fact that he looked as if he might trip over his own feet at any moment.

His cocky nonchalance both charmed and infuriated her, and Angelica released a harsh, pent-up breath and fisted her hands until her nails bit into her palms. The pain in them was nothing compared to the heavy, raw collapse of her heart in her chest. The pressure made her blink rapidly. The sight of his back terrified her.

"Jack...oh, Jack, what is it about me that you can always walk away from me so easily?"

Angelica barely whispered it, but Jack stopped dead in his tracks, and after a moment suddenly turned back to face her, his dark eyes oddly surprised, his expression startled.

Angelica gasped, actually found herself taking a step back in denial of what she'd just said. No. No, that hadn't been what she'd meant to say!

Jack stared at her, his clever eyes searching, studying. They narrowed suspiciously, and he took a few cautious steps forward again. One hand moved then, lifted as if he meant to reach out to her.

Angelica felt the blood rush from her face. Her heart stuttered.

"_¡Jesús, María y José!"_ Angelica rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth, tears burning at the corners of her eyes, damning herself for being so weak.

"_¡Olvídalo!"_ she snarled. "This time, Jack Sparrow,_ I_ am leaving you!"

She clenched her teeth together and spun away, furiously cursing herself aloud in her mother's tongue as she strode across to the edge of the pier, and deftly jumped down into wet sand. The breeze picked up, and she put a shaking hand atop her hat to keep it from blowing off as she hurried toward the dinghy she'd left at the shore.

Splashing unsteadily into the water, Angelica towed the dinghy out, then scrambled ungracefully inside, taking up the oars and rowing toward the ship so fast and hard she almost dislocated her shoulders. A heavy strand of her hair caught in her lips, and when she opened them to blow it away, she could hardly believe the sound of pain that came from between them. Surely that hopeless sob of frustration and pain had not been hers? No!  
>Then, too, the flood of wet heat on her cheeks could not be <em>her<em> tears!

"_¡Válgame dios!"_

She was panting hard, pushing herself far past her physical abilities, but she did not stop her furious pace until she reached the ship and climbed aboard. She roughly pushed past a number of men, spitting, "¡_Vamos_!", until she almost ran straight into Blackbeard. He lifted a heavy eyebrow at her ruffled, red-eyed state, and Angelica dropped her lashes in defense. Forcing herself to walk to her cabin instead of running, she ignored the curious and knowing eyes of her father and his crew.

She had to get a hold on herself. Jack Sparrow would not make her fall apart!  
>Angelica closed the door, fiercely paced the short space between it and the wall for a few minutes, and then stopped to calmly pull out a wooden bucket...and puke in it.<p>

_A/N: In case you didn't catch it, yes, Angelica is pregnant. Following with the events of the movie, though, it obviously didn't end well. I figured a disastrous pregnancy could more than explain Angelica's bitterness. I may add onto this at some point. Thank you for reading!_


End file.
